Open Has Wilkison, Who Needs Connors?

American Tim Wilkison, 26, nicknamed Rambo for his kamikaze style, meets Soviet Andrei Chesnokov, 20, at the U.S. Open.

The New York Post's headline writers must have been drooling with anticipation.

The most prestigious tennis tournament in the country, the U.S. Open, never is lacking for quality tennis, and yet, it seems, it always is searching for outside entertainment to spice it up. McEnroe screaming, Connors grunting, something, anything American for crying out loud.

It did not matter that no one ever has heard of Tim Wilkison. Without Connors and McEnroe, he would do just fine. An upset winner over Yannick Noah. A guy who wears a baseball cap on the court. A grunter and a diver to boot. Yes, this guy would do just fine.

Having him play a Soviet was a bonus.

''Rocky versus Drago,'' is how Chesnokov, not without a sense of humor himself, recognized it. Surely, there were several ways Sylvester Stallone could be worked in here.

'Wilkison, from Asheville, N.C., is part Valley guy, part All-American kid and a bundle of hyperkinetic energy just begging to be a media darling. All that is stopping him is a couple more victories and a ranking slightly higher than 31st in the world.

The best part about Wilkison is that he doesn't try to be funny. He just is.

After defeating Chesnokov, 6-0, 6-2, 6-3, Wilkison was asked how he felt about the U.S. versus USSR theme. ''Maybe I should leave that to Caspar Weinberger and all of them,'' he said.

Asked if he thought the crowd was on his side because of his performance or the fact that he was playing a Soviet, Wilkison, blood dripping from one knee, said, ''Well, I think it's a mixture of the two. I think I'm definitely exciting to watch because, you know, I fall down and all that. And obviously, the guy being from Russia had something to do with it.''

Asked if he wished there were more Soviets playing international tennis, Wilkison screwed up his face and searched for an answer.

''I don't care that much to tell you the truth,'' he said. ''I wouldn't particularly want to go over there for a tournament. Some guy would probably ask me to carry a cache of newspapers, and there I'd be for three years.''

He admonishes himself on court with a ''Fiddlesticks,'' because ''I try to be careful when I know I'm going to be on TV.''

He loves the crowd and yet tries to forget about it as much as possible. He said that's part of the reason he wears the cap. ''I find I can't see the crowd as well with it on,'' he said. ''It's kind of like a horse with blinders on.''

He directed his news conference with the aplomb of President Reagan, surveying the crowd and pointing out which reporter should question him next. He called himself, ''A Type A personality or something.''

''I can remember when I was 12 years old,'' Wilkison said. ''My dad built a wooden backboard for me in the backyard. I'd get up at 6 a.m. every day and as soon as it got light, at 6:30, I'd start shooting. I can't believe my next- door neighbors let me do it because a wooden backboard makes a lot of noise. They told me when it rained, they'd oversleep and be late for work. They didn't set their alarm clocks because every day at 6:30, it was bang, bang, bang.''

His wife is a former Clemson cheerleader who charts his matches, and his biggest goal is to make enough money to keep his coach, Woody Blocher, on a full-time basis.

''I always do better with him around,'' he said.

If Wilkison loses his quarterfinal match against Stefan Edberg on Wednesday, the U.S. Open will not have lost its most talented tennis player.

It will, however, have lost its most entertaining.

As one reporter said as Wilkison loped out of his news conference, ''So who needs Jimmy Connors?''